It turns out that the whimper-inducing pain in my hip was actually the result of a fluid build-up around the joint. As more fluid crept in, the pain increased, mobility decreased and I became crankier. This explains why any pressure on it could literally bring me to my knees. (And trust me, going onto your knees when rolling over in bed is exceptionally challenging even when motivated by pain.)
Luckily, I live in a country and era where I have access to as many pharmaceuticals as my little heart could desire. Actually, to significantly more than any organ of mine could ever want but that's precisely my point. I go to the doctor and do my Pakled impression:
I am broken. Make me go.
And she writes me up a prescription for a vial full of little pills which turn my stomach into a churning maelstrom but which are gradually making the pain in my hip go away.
Three cheers for modern medicine.
I'm not generally a drug endorser. I'm a stubborn control-freak with a suspicion of anyone who wants to sell me things (looking at you, Big Pharma). But there is a time and a place for chemical intervention and I'm very glad I have it as an option. Natural healing processes will only get you so far and when they aren't working, I'm not so proud as to suffer needlessly.
The kids are happy with my increased mobility as well. I think Nathan was worried about my health after seeing me spend several days on the couch. He turned down a sleepover at his grandparents' to come home and keep an eye on me. Now things like swimming and going to the park are back on the schedule. And that's what summer is supposed to be about.
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